:: travelogue, with pictures

OK, here we go. I've done tiny version of the pictures to speed things up: click on the image to see a larger version. If you would like a super-size of anything, Chris (or a copy of a pic you know I took and don't see here), let me know.



Paris!! Hurrah!


First of all, the flat, which was perfect. It was in Saint Germain-des-Pres, a very arty area just across the Seine from the Louvre.
It faced into a courtyard, so it was nice and quiet. You could get to the courtyard from two streets, both of which were thick with art galleries.
The whole area was lively and interesting. Here's the man doing his card tricks:



On the first day Chris and I "did" Montmartre: Sacre Coeur, the Montmartre cemetery, Moulin Rouge and all points between. Pictures: Lots of lovely little cafes.




And a whole street of fabric shops. Here, a belly-dancer picks out a new outfit.


The cemetery was fascinating.



This was a mystery grave: brand new, obviously, and the name was Depardieu. A member of the actor's family? No idea.


A lot of the tombs have fallen into disrepair, but still have beautiful mosaics inside.



Yes, the Moulin Rouge is a real place.


Sacre Coeur, which you'll be seeing a bit of. It's particularly lovely against a strong blue sky.


At the bottom of the hill is another Paris landmark: Tati, the Paris equivalent of Warehouse or Poundstretcher. One great huge bargain bin. We didn't buy anything: I was scared of being electrocuted, there was so much nylon in there. However, Chris found some fantastic shoes:




Speaking of shopping, Chris had a thrill when she found the very handbag she'd bought in Tuscany on sale for twice the price in a shop just down the road from the flat:

Weirdly enough, shortly before leaving for Paris I was gripped by a strong urge to buy a red handbag. We loved our bags -- Chris decided we were "Les Soeures du Sac a Main Rouge".


Versailles:



First of all: it's huge. The palace is huge, the grounds are vast. The scale of everything is overwhelming: the number of staff in its heyday, the cost of restoration, the amount of gilt, the number of paintings, everything. I kept imagining how it must have all seemed to the sans-culottes during the Revolution: they were just asking for enough bread to stay alive, and here was the king, living in unimaginable splendour.

Second: It was hot. Really hot. I'd like to go back and walk around the grounds on a cooler day. As it was we were too knackered to go to the Petit Trianon. We did see the Grand Trianon, though the place with the pretty pink columns. You could hire row-boats and go for a burl round the Grand Canal, which would be nice.



We were just too tired. Really.

Next day, we hit the Pompidou Centre.



In the first picture you can just see Chris walking off down the corridor -- the escalators are all on the outside of the building in perspex tubes -- and Sacre Coeur on the left. We saw a photographic exhibition (Jacques Lartigue), then broke for lunch before seeing one floor of the permanent exhibition. After that we went out and scoured the streets for a padded envelope before returning with just enough time to visit the last floor before closing time. The second picture is of two Miro paintings (my favourite artist) and the third is me in a room-sized artwork, whose creator's name I've forgotten. Loved it, though!

The envelope was for Chris to send her films off to NZ to avoid taking them through airport X-ray machines. It's amazing how difficult it is to find seemingly ordinary things in a strange city. We finally found one in the BHV department store: we had barely five minutes to search a five-storey building!



At some point, I forget exactly when, we visited Sainte Chapelle, an astounding church tucked away amid the courts of justice. It was built about 900 years ago to house the Crown of Thorns, which the king had bought along with a load of other relics, including a piece of the True Cross. Woo! All that disappeared during the Revolution, and the church was damaged, but it's still amazing. It had the most beautiful windows, mainly in shades of red and blue, and the walls and columns etc are gorgeous rich deep colours with lots of gilt. No flash, of course, so almost impossible to photograph, but I had a go:




The next morning Chris left for London. I decided a good way to get around for a couple of days was the Batobus, a service that does a circular route on the Seine all day, with eight stops. You can get on and off the boat as many times as you like.
My first stop was the Musee d'Orsay, just upriver from St-Germain-des-Pres. To get there I sailed downriver to the Jardin des Plantes, then all the way back up the river to the Eiffel Tower, then back down again. Tremendous way to travel, most relaxing!


There was also a lot to see on the river, like the wonderful houseboats lining the quays, the elaborate bateaux mouches powering up and down, the working barges, and ahem, the firefighters, Pompiers de Paris. Ooooh er! What's the French for "hose me down, I'm on fire"?


So, Musee d'Orsay. This was my favourite art gallery, an old railway station whose platforms were too narrow for modern trains. It's a wonderful building, it must have been amazing to arrive there. But it's also a brilliant gallery, with all kinds of little architectural surprises, like a balcony with stunning views. Of Sacre Coeur, natch.





I thought this statue was the gayest thing in Paris. Pan playing with little bears. Totally gay.



I stopped off at Notre Dame de Paris, as one does, but it was horrible. There was a service in progress, but that didn't stop the mobs of gawping tourists taking flash photos and yattering on their constantly ringing phones. I swear people were more respectful at the Eiffel Tower! At all the other churches they had minders shushing visitors and telling them off for flash photography, but at Notre Dame they seemed to have given up. Lovely building though.


The other big number of my to-do list was the Eiffel Tower. The queue was mind-boggling -- first you queued for a ticket, then you queued for a lift to the second level, then you queued for a lift to the top. I was going to walk up to the second level but ... you guessed it, it was too hot and I was tired.






The views were fab, truly stunning and worth all the queuing. I love that kind of Mechano-set construction, it's like the Forth Bridge. At night, at about 8pm, the tower is lit up like a sparkler. I made sure I was on a boat cruising past -- it was tacky but totally magical.

:: vanishing point

Argh: I'd done a long description of our trip to Versailles, with lots of links and everything ... and managed to lose the lot. Damn damn damn.

Anyway, apologies for the delay in finishing the Paris travelogue: I haven't got the pictures on to the internet yet, maybe at the weekend. Time's flying by. I was going to finish the words at least but ... see above. Maybe at the weekend.

:: bonjour, tout le monde!!

Well here I am in Paris, in an internet cafe with Chris (Cessford). I arrived yesterday, but Chris and her boyfriend Julian have been here over the weekend -- they stayed in a hotel for a couple of nights, then we all met up in the apartment (Rive Gauche, just across the Seine from the Louvre) yesterday afternoon. Julian went off to London on the Eurostar this morning, and Chris leaves on Friday morning. I'm staying on to Sunday morning!

Last night we found a nice little bistro for dinner (steak, mmmm) and then wandered the streets. We found a wonderful man doing slick card tricks and watched him for half an hour, he was excellent. This morning Chris went down to the local patisserie for our breakfast -- croissants and these amazing things called palmiers --- hard to describe, but I'll take pictures and post them later on. Deeeeeelicious, and obviously not fattening, because all Parisian women are thin as rakes.

Today Chris and I "did" Montmartre: Sacre Coeur, Cimetiere Montmartre, Moulin Rouge and all points between. Great, and not too crowded. The cemetery was fascinating. Did you know that Degas' family name is actually de Gas? I didn't. The whole area is fascinating though -- we took a look at Tati, the Paris equivalent of the Warehouse, and found several streets devoted to fabric shops and haberdashery. We had a pitstop for lunch (even the filled rolls are lovely in Paris) and another for a cold drink (citron presse -- fresh squeezed lemon which you add sugar to), then got the metro back to the flat for a lie-down.

Now we're catching up with the world before finding another little bistro for our dinner. Tomorrow we're going to Versailles, and the day after that the Pompidou Centre and the Louvre.

I've left all my email details at the flat, so I'll catch up on my email another day -- lots of love to everyone!!

:: The Holiday, part one

First of all we went to the farm, which was great, as always. Bertie flushed out a couple of hares on his first excursion - whee! He might have caught them if they weren't so clever and he wasn't so out of condition. Andrew is in the throes of renovating his new home -- it had rot downstairs, so all the floorboards and joists had to come out. The wood expert was there ripping it all up, so I spent quite a bit of time helping Andrew cart rotten wood to the bonfire site. We also went for two great long walks (one up on the moors and another at the seaside near Nairn) and mowed the (very large) lawn at his aunt and uncle's cottage. Another highlight was feeding the little calf they're hand-rearing. It was a twin and the cow didn't think she could be bothered to bring them both up. She's a tiny skinny little thing, but is thriving.

Here are some photos:


John feeds the wee calf


Me patting the calf -- it was butting me quite hard, looking for milk.


John and Andrew in the kitchen of Andrew's new house -- "The Aga's going over there..."


Something nasty found under the floorboards. The floor had been laid directly on to the earth.


Bertie was confused by the earth floor: "Are we inside or outside?" Later he decided it was outside and had a pee. Oops...


The new/old house from the outside. It had been divided into flats and rented out, but now Andrew's making it a house again. It's going to be lovely -- fantastic views of the Moray Firth.

On Friday I loaded up the car and Bertie and I headed for Royal Deeside, to do some hillwalking. There was a slight hitch to my plans, in that it turned out the Balmoral Games were being held at the weekend, so all the accommodation was booked up. We had to stay in Tomintoul, the other side of the Lecht pass from Deeside.


This was one of the B&Bs we stayed at -- a wonderful farm tucked away in the hills. We had a family room with TV and private bathroom. Great place. Bertie blotted his copybook by trying to kill the cat, but later on suffered the humiliation of being chased by the puppy. Working dogs, hard as nails!


A spring on the path around Loch Muick (pronounced Mick).


Loch Muick


Ditto. That's Queen Victoria's Highland hideaway in amongst the trees, a nice solid stone house right on the lochside.


Lots of water for a thirsty dog. It was a beautiful day.


The next day was tougher: we went up Lochnagar. This is the view from near the ridge, on our way back down. The carpark is far, far in the distance.


Lochnagar. The summit is behind the cliffs -- you had to clamber up a steep slope and work your way round the clifftops. I was too knackered, and so was Bertie. We had a picnic by the loch and then headed back.

Then we came home!! I'll write more later on -- right now I've got to get to the supermarket, my cupboards are bare. Sarah is still here -- she went to a photography course on Skye and stopped off for a few days on her way back south. She's a great guest, it's a pleasure to have her to stay.

:: quick update

Weather: Good

Work: Busy

Visitor: Sarah

Days to holiday: Two

:: whew

Twenty minutes to go so it's possibly tempting fate to say so, but tonight at work has gone extremely smoothly. I was anticipating the worst because I had a lot of extra work due to someone being off sick and Fridays can be a bit fractious. But all the copy came in smoothly, there were no dramas or late-breaking stories, and we just about hit the deadline.

Hurrah!

Tomorrow I must really do some gardening -- we've had some rain and it's still warm, so the weeds are growing like weeds. Bertie is also due a walk somewhere fun rather than the boring same-old-same-old walks.

My holiday is starting to take shape. I'm going to Barevan for the first week, then I think I'll spend a few days in Royal Deeside, hillwalking. I've been there before but haven't done any walking. Then a couple of days in Edinburgh packing & organising, and also seeing the fireworks concert -- and then Paris.

:: ark!

Look what happened yesterday in my street! Terror as lorry crashes into a cottage.

Yikes. It happened at about 3pm, and normally at that time I would have been walking the dog. But yesterday I left home just before then, on foot, because my car was in the garage having its water leak dealt with. Again. So I missed all the excitement.

The poor cottage looks very forlorn -- it's a lovely little stone house, and now has a huge crack down the wall where the lorry hit. The window is boarded up, some of the roof tiles have been broken, and the guttering's been torn off. The solid stone wall at the front was punched right over, down into the garden (the cottage is below the level of the road). I don't know the lady who lives there.

No time to write more, I'm too busy. Tomorrow will be even worse -- I'm tired just thinking about it.

:: berry nasty accident

Memo to self: a blackberry patch is not a great place to fall over. I was out collecting berries for my breakfast & had pushed into a thicket to get at some particularly juicy fruit. Then I had to get back out. Backwards seemed the most sensible way. But then my sandals snagged on the brambles, and I lost my balance. And of course there's nothing safe to grab in a blackberry patch to break your fall. On the way down I realised Bertie was standing right behind me, and twisted to avoid crushing him, so I fell heavily and awkwardly.

OW!

It was really hard getting back up -- nothing to grab hold of again -- and I was actually bleeding in a couple of places from the thorns. But I didn't drop the berries I'd picked. I had them for breakfast this morning and let me tell you, it was worth the pain.

Last night I went to another Fringe show, Waterwall, by an Italian dance company. It was a bit more gymnastics than dance, but enjoyable all the same. It was set outdoors, in the Old College quad, near where I used to live.

I took some pictures -- not great but I didn't have a tripod.


The dancers hooked themselves on to ropes and swung out through the water -- tricky to catch them.


This bit they were pretend-surfing.


I came closer to the front to take this one.

Afterwards we walked down my old close, and man, I'm glad I don't live there any more. The pub across the close from my old flat is even noisier than I remember, ditto the bar at the top of the close, ditto the one across the Cowgate. The racket was incredible. Three cheers for the suburbs.

And another thing: the Tattoo up at the Castle used to only have fireworks on the late show on Saturday nights; now they have them every night at every show. I saw a couple carrying a traumatised little dog home after the early evening volley of fireworks -- poor animals, they have enough to cope with with Guy Fawkes and New Year. I do wonder too if the amount of fireworks has anything to do with a recent spate of large chunks of masonry falling off Edinburgh buildings. The percussion is quite strong, even half a mile away.

Garden news: Beans! I looked at my runner bean the other day and it had a smattering of tiny mini-beans growing where the flowers had fallen off. Yesterday I looked again and there was an actual bean-sized bean! I picked it and ate it immediately. Mmm. Probably better steamed, but still quite nice.


These pictures are of the bean flowers, I took them last week. You can just about make out the tiny beanlets.


I'm having to water the garden, we've been without rain for so long. I talked to Andrew today and he said things are getting quite desperate on the farm. They have to bucket water from the cottage (which is on mains water) to fill the cattle troughs (spring-fed). The house is on spring water too, so they're being very frugal with it -- Andrew uses his shower water to flush the toilet. I'm kind of hoping it rains before I get up there at the end of the month. Yes, I'm going to the farm! Bertie and I will be there from 31 August to 5 September, when they have a whole family coming to visit. Then we're heading off into the Highlands for a few days of hillwalking etc. Andrew might join us if he gets a chance, but they're in the middle of calving, so maybe not.

What else? Not a lot. Work. Dog-walking.

Oh, I've found a wonderful new cleaning product -- it's fantastic. I use a lot of Ecover products, but this is the best yet. So far I've cleaned all the floors and the bathroom and toilet with it. I makes the house smell of oranges -- real oranges, not pretendy ones.

:: on its way out

I checked my easynet email tonight (just to see what new spam was there) and it's dead! The website is still live, but it's just a redirection page anyway. It's a relief I have to say, not to have all that spam to wade through. No spam on my new address, touch wood.

In case you were wondering (hi mum), the bja@hush.com address I've put here is just me being paranoid -- I wasn't sure if I got so much spam via easynet because I put my email address on the blog or not. However, I haven't had any spam at all at my hush.com address (it is a real one -- it's a webmail service), so I might stop being crazy and just put my real address.

:: daze off

I'm in shock, I had two days off from work, two days in a row. It was great. On Monday afternoon I ventured into town -- Festival! Within an hour of arriving I was nearly ready to run back to the suburbs. The heat! The noise! The crowds! The costumes! Aieee! Now I remember why I left my Old Town flat ...

Managed to calm myself down and enjoyed a ramble around my old haunts, then met up with Fiona just as the Tattoo audience started arriving in their massive coaches. They park along both sides of the whole of George IV Bridge and Chambers Street, ghastly.

So Fiona and I had a lovely dinner at Favorit, right next to an open window for a refreshing breeze. Then we met up with Martin outside the show I'd booked for us, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. It was a good laugh -- old troupers, the pair of them, and Golden did a great Elvis impression.

After that we had a beer at the terrace bar outside the venue ... reeling in shock at discovering that a bottle of Budweiser was £2.95. Eeeek! It was entertaining though -- people on stilts kept trying to persuade us to come to their show. After that we retired to one of my favourite pubs, Sandy Bells. It was packed -- fiddlers were playing at the back -- but we managed to find seats. And astonishingly, we found ourselves sitting next to a man who claimed to be the uncle of one of our colleagues (former colleague, for Fiona and Martin).

I hadn't intended staying out late, but in the event I only just caught the last bus, after battling through the crowds leaving the Tattoo. And who should get on at the next stop but my next-door neighbour! It really is a small town.

:: jam today

First, a cracking front page from the Edinburgh Evening News:


What they mean to say is the binmen, or rubbish collectors, are threatening to go on strike. But my colleagues and I had some fun with scary stories about cycling along the road in the haar and hearing the rumble of a wheelie bin behind you.

Yesterday was the grand finale of Ferry Fair Week, with the crowning of the queen and all, but I didn't attend this year. I walked Bertie past the end of the High Street and that was plenty close enough for him -- children, brass and pipe bands, people dressed up as bears ... aieee! The last stretch of his walk was brisk, to say the least.

So after a delightful morning and afternoon sunning myself -- I spent the whole day in shorts, a first for Edinburgh! -- I left Bertie home and drove off to Chad's place to pick blackcurrants. He and Leslie have a great allotment right by their house, and they share it with just one set of neighbours. I nearly had enough for the jam, got distracted chatting to the neighbours ... and kicked my container over. Then stood in the spilled fruit -- barefoot, of course. Tsk.

On the way home I picked up some sugar. Then had a barbecued dinner: vege kebabs and a steak. Then made jam. It was a success, 12 jars. Quite a mess to clean up though!

Tonight I was working again, but I have tomorrow and Tuesday off. Fiona and I are going to a show tomorrow night, Barry Cryer and Ronnie Golden Unplugged. "The dynamic duo of Rock 'n' Droll returns! Owing to Barry's failed pension scheme and repossession of Ronnie's amplifier they've gone acoustic. Thrash metal meets George Formby. 'I laughed incontinently' Michael Billington Guardian". I'm probably going to go into town early and see something else.

Today was Fringe Sunday, there were 200,000 people in Holyrood Park! John at work said he walked through town thinking, oh these poor people crowding everything don't realise there's a free extravaganza in the park. And of course vast crowds did. It's astonishing how many people jam into the city at festival time.

All that depends on me going to bed now ... it's nearly 4am.

Thanks to everyone for your kind words about Pinky's new website! It was fun.

:: work work work

I was supposed to be off today but here I am at work. There was a crisis, so my colleague John came in at 9am (and stayed until nearly 9pm) and I came in at 4pm. Ish.

I got up early to get Bertie walked while it was still foggy and cooler. Last night the haar was so thick you couldn't see either of the bridges, not even the aircraft warning lights. By this morning it had lifted a bit and by the time I left for work it was brilliant sunny and hot. Sigh. The haar rolled back in at about 6pm or 7pm. Sigh.

Anyway, the walk was great. We went to Bertie's top favourite venue, Braid Hills. He got to bomb around among the trees, paddle in the stream and meet lots of exciting new dogs -- including a couple of totally cute terriers who thought he was the bee's knees. He also had a close encounter with cattle. There's a mob of young cows in the field near the car park, who are now completely used to people and dogs walking past. Bertie gave them a glance but was distracted by a patch of deliciously scented grass. While he was sniffing it, one of the cows crept up and sniffed him. He got such a fright when he turned round and there was a cow inspecting his bottom! They were all staring at him -- I think it's because he's so tall, they thought he might be one of them.

Yesterday was very productive -- I had that off as well, and did all the boring practical things so I'd have Friday free for Fun. Yeah right. Anyway I got stuck into the horrible mess that is the back garden, mowing and strimming and weeding and raking and clipping like a fiend. After a shower and some shopping, I had dinner and then did some dull paperwork and got Pinky's new website up and running on its own domain.

I'll have some fun tomorrow.

:: creative juices

If you want a really good laugh, go and look at my latest blogging success -- it's taken me nearly a year to work out a way of publishing it!!! The gorgeous design (sit and stare at it for a minute, it does things) isn't mine, by the way, it's courtesy of Eric Costello, a geek god.

The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!

A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!

:: creative juices

If you want a really good laugh, go and look at my latest blogging success -- it's taken me nearly a year to work out a way of publishing it!!! The gorgeous design (sit and stare at it for a minute, it does things) isn't mine, by the way, it's courtesy of Eric Costello, a geek god.

The thing is, this blog is all published via and stored on a server in the US. I'd like to have it stored on my own webspace. The shutup blog is a record of my efforts. Tonight, I finally succeeded! I'm as thrilled as a thrilled person. Geektastic!

A lot of the folk who poke fun at blogging mention this as a feature: bloggers always end up writing screeds about the technical side of blogging. We can't help it!

:: snaps

Couple of silly pics from recent walks:



Inventor of the cloud chamber! Fantastic. You can make your own cloud chamber, you know. Just be careful ... dry ice and isopropanol can be dangerous.


Short cut! Hurrah! But where will you end up?

:: drip drip drip

I've got to take my car in to the garage tomorrow, to have the water hose replaced. The water had been disappearing slowly but surely: I got a low coolant warning about once a fortnight (yes, I know, I ignored it as long as I could). So I had the mechanic take a look and sure enough, there's a metal section of hose that was so rusty it was porous.

I was moved to get it fixed finally by hearing what happened to Faye: her hose split without warning, with the result that her car suddenly overheated and the engine seized. She had to get a whole new engine, at enormous expense.